Way Back Home
by CrystalClash
Summary: AU. "Am I supposed to know any of you?" the man-boy asked innocently, with a hint of apology. And just like that, five hearts were crushed, and one will probably be scarred for life. Read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: My first Friends fic! This is so not gonna be funny, partly because it's not supposed to be funny, mostly because I am not funny. So please bear with me. It's a bit short, but it's gonna be longer in later chapters. Reviews and Criticism are appreciated! Enjoy.**

**Edit: I have decided to revamp this story a bit. Don't worry, nothing will be changed much, except for the what age is Ross stuck in. And maybe I'll make the chapters longer.**

Chapter One

By the time she got to the hospital, all that Phoebe could make out is a blur. Aflurry of white-wearing medical personnel running back and forth, a dash of silver from trays carrying either medical supplies or questionable mush, and the vivid, bloody red continously flowing from her friend's body – his face, his clothes, everything. She was forced to a bed, a group of nurses and doctors fixing her own wounds while Ross was taken to the emergency room.

The taxi was a wreck, but that didn't compare to the breakdown she was having right now. She doesn't even care about the cab anymore. She doesn't even care about herself. All she wants to at this moment was to see how Ross is doing. And to call Monica and the others.

Monica. Monica's gonna kill her. So will Rachel. And then everybody else. But not if she does it first. How come she did not swerve any further? Why did she let Ross cry his heart out on the backseat? Why, of all cars, did the drunk driver hit her taxi? And most importantly, why isn't she the one in the emergency room? Why is she the one practically unscathed?

"Hold still, ma'am," one of the nurses held a firm grip on Phoebe's arm. Another one placed a bandage on her forehead. Phoebe continued to resist, but to no avail.

"I wanna see my friend!" Phoebe shouted. "And I want to call our friends!"

"Well," the nurse gripping her arm said, taken aback, "you are not allowed in the emergency room, but you'll be able to call your friends after we fix you up. So, close your eyes for a moment. Everything is gonna be okay." This did not make Phoebe feel better at all. Everything is not going to be okay. How did this day come from being bright and beaming to downright devastating?

"Fine," Phoebe spat out, before surrendering to slumber. It was a long day.

Monica couldn't believe it. The idea couldn't sink in. It can't be. She can't move. She can't speak. She can't function. She doesn't know what to do. And same went for everybody else.

They were celebrating the eve of moving day, and everybody was hoping that Ross and Rachel would finally, FINALLY, get back together again. Monica opened champagne, and Joey ordered pizza. It was just the four of them - Monica, Chandler, Phoebe, and Mike - waiting for three people to open the door. But instead they got a phone call.

"Mike, honey? You have to come to the hospital. Quick. Bring the others. This is pretty big..." Then all they heard for the next ten seconds were Phoebe's sobs. That was ten minutes ago, and somehow, it is still fresh in Monica's brain.

The phone was on the floor, everyone still stunned by the news. Jack and Erica were crying noisily on their crib, but no one was paying attention. Somehow, Chick Jr. and Duck Jr. managed to waddle their way to Apartment 20, but no one (not even Joey) cared.

Finally, Mike broke their trances with a whisper. "I'm gonna go there. Anybody else?"

The others nodded solemnly. Monica and Chandler took Jack and Erica out of the crib, Joey closed the door, and Mike called Phoebe that they're on their way.

And yet none of them said a single word to Rachel Green.

The next day, Rachel Green stepped foot on Paris soil. But something didn't feel right. A lot of cute French guys with wonderful accents were offering to carry her luggage, but she didn't feel the slightest hint of spark. She ate a croissant, but she couldn't taste anything. French people, smiling, waving, giving her a warm welcome. But instead, she was sulking. Her cab passed by the Eiffel Tower, and she didn't even notice. Jet lag, she decided as the excuse for her cranky behavior.

Street artists playing guitars and keyboards. A coffee ship. A restaurant with a lobster logo. A small billboard featuring Days of Our Lives. A little girl clutching on to her dinosaur stuffed toy. Then the song playing on the cab. "With or without you... With or without you ohh..." Bono cried out. Rachel groaned.

"Monsieur! Monsieur! Can you please turn down that racket?"

Now it was the driver who groaned, muttering something in the lines of "America" and "whiners".

She shook her head, trying not to miss Monica and the others. Especially Ross. But everywhere she looks, all she sees is New York. And her friends. And Emma. And Ross. And Newark Airport. Where Ross declared his never-ending love for her. But still, she got on the plane.

She loves him, she does. She loves him with all her heart. But she can't do that right now. It's time for them to move on. It has been ten years of push-pull, on-off, migraine-inducing, heart-fluttering moments with him, and it has come to a halt. It's finally off the table. The idea just sunk in right now. And a part of Rachel couldn't believe it, but a larger part of her decided that it's time.

Suddenly, her phone rang, breaking her flow of thoughts. Monica. Crap! She said she'd call first. And she didn't. What is wrong with her?

"Rachel?" Monica croaked from the other line. She seemed to be crying.

"Mon?" Rachel asked, concerned. Monica rarely cries. It must be really something devastating or joyous to make her cry like that.

"Ross is in a coma."

And just like that, Rachel felt everything crumble right in front of her.


	2. Chapter 2

Somehow, Rachel found herself on a plane again. Part of her wants to scold herself for ignoring a great opportunity, while another part of her continued to hear Monica's sobs. But even if she wanted to get off the plane, it's too late. The flight attendants already closed the doors, and the pilots began their customary introductions.

But Rachel couldn't hear anything the pilots are saying. All she could hear is her best friend. "It's awful Rach. I know I shouldn't call you, you have a whole life ahead there, but I don't know who to talk to. Phoebe's sleeping, Mike and I, we're not really that close, and Chandler is too busy comforting Joe. The doctors said that Ross's head was the most injured of all, and I don't need to be a doctor to know that's the second death spot. What if he won't wake up Rach? What if he will never wake up?"

Rachel sighed. Part of her wanted to scold Monica for being pessimistic, but another part of her tried to think about her side. It's hard to be conflicted, Rachel thought as she realized that the plane was already above ground.

Rachel tried to imagine life without Ross. Jack and Judy would be devastated. Jack and Erica would never meet their uncle. Ben and Emma would be miserable. The gang would never be complete again. And her? She stopped imagining. Life without Ross is not a pretty picture.

Chandler couldn't figure out how long they've been at the hospital. All he knows that it's the longest time Phoebe didn't sing. The longest time Mike didn't play the piano. The longest time Monica didn't clean anything. The longest time Joey didn't eat. The longest time he didn't crack a joke. And most importantly, the longest time Ross didn't wake up.

They had Ross and Phoebe moved to private rooms across each other, since the four of them, plus Jack and Erica, needed a place to sleep. So it's Mike and Joey at Phoebe's, him, Monica and the twins at Ross's.

Monica looked at her older brother. His face was covered in bruises and bandages. His arms were entangled with webs of wires. He was so still, there was a part of Monica that thought that only the machines are keeping him alive. Ross looked absolutely terrible.

"Will he ever wake up?" she asked.

"Of course he would," Chandler answered, sitting on the couch, the twins sleeping beside him. "The doctors said that his brain activity is really good." And the doctors did say that, but they also said that his heart rate is inconsistent. But Chandler didn't dare bring that up again. The first time Monica heard it, she didn't stop crying for what seemed like an forever.

"Of course it's good!" Monica shouted, causing for Erica to stir. "He's a genius!" She would do a lot to hear those boring dinosaur stories right now.

"Hello..." Clearly, the nurse was taken aback with how Rachel looked. Rumpled hair, eyes with vacant expressions, and rumpled clothes, which made Rachel feel even guiltier, since these are the clothes she wore when she got on the plane. These are the clothes that she rejected Ross in. She needs to change. But unfortunately, almost all of her clothes are in Paris, including the small rolling bag she brought.

"I need to know where Ross Geller and Phoebe Buffay's rooms are!" she ignored the look the nurse was giving her, who looked up the names on her computer at once. Looks like this woman is the one in need of the hospital, the nurse thought.

"Rachel?" A familiar voice came from behind her.

She turned around. It was Mark. From Bloomingdale's. The guy who gave her the opportunity of a lifetime. Also the one person Rachel did not want to see right now. Why I am I so messed up right now?, she thought.

"What are you doing here?" Mark asked.

"Uh..." Rachel trailed off. Truth or lie? And the words just spilled out of her mouth.

"Ross and Phoebe got into an accident, and I just had to see them, Mark. I had to. I know you probably won't want to offer me a job anymore, but I don't care. Ralph offered me my old job back, with a raise. I think I could live with that. Sorry."

Mark gave an encouraging smile. "It's okay Rachel. Louis Vuitton can wait. You'll still have your Paris job. You need to see your friends. I just came here to see mine." And with that, he left.

Rachel didn't waste any time. She ran to the elevator, waited impatiently for the elevator to open at the 9th floor, and headed off to Room 904. Pheebs, I love you, but Monica is scaring me about Ross, she thought as she opened the door.

"Monica?"

Monica was all alone in the room, while Chandler was outside with Jack and Erica. He needed fresh air. And he's also the one who called the movers about postponing Moving Day because they need a nearer place to stay for a while. Good thing no one bought the apartment yet. Ross was still unconscious, when somebody opened the door. It was Rachel.

She was shocked. Monica thought that Rachel getting on the plane was a sign that she's moved on. That she was already over with Ross. But here she is, looking all teary and rumpled, running to her and giving her a tight hug.

"I think you two need some time," Monica said after they broke off. "Room's all yours Green."

And for the three minutes since Monica left, all that could be heard in that room are the sounds of the life-support machines, and sobs. Rachel clutched on Ross' hand, squeezing it so hard in hope that he might wake up. But he didn't. He was as still as a stone. When her tears had finally subsided, Rachel mustered up the courage to speak her heart out, even if Ross won't hear anything she'll say.

"Ross. Hi. It's me. I just came back from Paris." Rachel sighed. "You have absolutely no idea how awful I feel right now. I was already feeling horrible for getting on the plane, but seeing you in this state just takes that to a whole new other level. I mean, I didn't even get to tell you that I love you too. Because of course I do. I love you. And now, with Monica's worries and my stupid imagination, I'm beginning to wonder what would happen if you'll never get to hear it. Please don't give up Ross. Please wake up. Please fight on. For the gang, for Ben, for Emma, for me." She squeezed his hand again, hoping this would be it.

And just like that, a pair of brown eyes slowly fluttered open.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the pretty reviews! Ross might be a teensy bit out of character in this chapter. Also, this chapter's kind of short. Read and review!**

**P.S. Happy anniversary to Mondler!**

**Edit: This is the chapter with the major plot change. Well, not really major, I'm just tweaking the age Ross is stuck in since 15 seems way too unrealistic. Sorry for the inconvenience.**

The first thing Ross heard was a scream. It was a loud scream, more like a shriek. Must be girl. Then he heard the faint squeaking of footwear. And finally, a loud thud from the door. He opened his eyes a bit more. What's going on?, he thought.

The first thing he saw was white. White walls in all four corners. White door with a window showing flashes of white. Ross didn't know what's going on, or where could he possibly be. One thing's for sure, this was definitely not home. His head is pounding. Surely he wasn't suffering a hungover, he didn't smell like alcohol. He tried to blink, but his face hurt. Suddenly, the door opened with an even louder thud. Ross tried to cover his ears, but his hands seemed to be as heavy as hollow blocks. He bit his lip, hoping the door's thud didn't mean the entrance of a burglar. It wasn't a burglar. Instead, he found himself surrounded by an interesting crowd of people.

A doctor with a stethoscope hanging over his shoulders, and a notepad on his hand, was eyeing him skeptically. Two male nurses fiddling with some machines on Ross's side. Ross looked at where the wires lead to, and his gaze ended up in his arms. His eyes widened in shock, but the nurses seemed oblivious to his reaction. Was he sick? Did he get beat into a pulp? Shaking his head, he shifted his attention back to the rest of the crowd, which consisted of four adults with big grins plastered on their faces. Despite the smiles and sighs of relief, the whole lot of them seemed to be tired.

"Hi," Ross treaded cautiously, frustrated and confused. His voice seemed deeper. He cleared his throat.

Monica couldn't believe it. Ross is awake. Ross said hi. Ross cleared his throat! She looked around. There was definitely a lighter aura around the room.

"Hey dude," Chandler greeted, waving at him. Ross nodded in acknowledgment, since he can't lift his hands.

"Ross!" Monica squealed, running to hug her brother, but quickly broke off when she noticed Ross wince in pain. "I'm not fat anymore," Monica said defensively.

"I can see that," Ross said weakly. "Uh...it's just that my body still hurts, that's all."

Monica, Chandler, and Joey laughed, but Rachel settled on one of the chairs and remained silent. There was something off in her opinion. It might sound selfish, but Ross should've called her by now. He did chase after her from the city to JFK to Newark after all. And then she would kiss him, and then everything would be okay. But when she saw Ross shove Chandler's hand away when the latter asked for a 'lame guy handshake', Rachel knew everything is not okay.

Chandler was confused. Ross shoved his hand away. He has never done that before. And he wasn't the only one confused.

"That was not cool, Ross," Joey said. "I know it's the lame guy handshake is super lame, we do it anyway." Then he did the airquote gesture.

Ross's eyebrows furrowed. "Why would I do it? I don't even know how to do it! And by the way, you're doing airquotes wrong."

Before anyone was able to react, the doctor began to speak. "Good morning. I'm Dr. Whitman. What's your name?" He was the only one who seemed to be unfazed in the room.

"Ross Geller," Ross said, thinking about how ridiculous that question was.

"Do you know where you are?"

"I think it's a hospital, but I don't know the name. I also don't know what I'm here for. Can you enlighten me?"

"How old are you?" the doctor continued his interrogation, ignoring Ross's question.

"Twenty," Ross said in a matter-of-fact tone.

The doctor nodded, making a note on his Brillo pad. The nurses' shook their heads. Monica and Chandler's eyebrows furrowed, Joey started to count his fingers for some reason, and Rachel just stood there, not knowing how to react.

"What? I really am twenty!" Ross shouted.

"No you're not Ross," Monica said.

"Yes I am! I'm Ross Geller, I'm nineteen, I don't know what the heck that stupid handshake is all about, and I don't know any of you people! That's right, I don't know all of you! I just want to go home!"

Everybody's eyes turned to Ross, and he was confused. The doctor looked at him even more carefully, as if he was a newly discovered dinosaur bone. The two nurses stopped fiddling with the machines and stood beside the doctor. And as for the other four? All of their smiles and sighs seemed to have vanished in an instant, an a cold chill swept into the room. For a moment, everything was so silent, a needle could fall and it would've been as loud as a gong. Time seemed to stop still.

Rachel prepared for the worst, but she didn't knew it would be this worse. "I don't know any of you people!" The tone of his voice was so unwavering, not one of them thought it was a joke. She stood up and put an arm over Monica, who was white as chalk.

"Can I see you guys outside?" Dr. Whitman asked Monica and the others, ignoring Ross.

As they left the room, Rachel stared at Ross for a moment. And he caught her gaze. Time seemed to stop still.

"What are you looking at?" Ross spat out, and just like that, a single, solitary tear fell off Rachel's cheek as she closed the door.

**There. I turned him to 20 because I presume that's how old he was when he was a college freshie, which will be kind of essential. Again, sorry for messing up your reading pleasure (or pain).**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews! I hope you'll like this chapter. R&R!**

**Exintaris - thank you for the tips! Really appreciated it. I already changed what Ross said in the third chapter.**

Phoebe can't wait to hear about Ross. When Rachel barged into her room and screamed, "ROSS IS AWAKE! HE OPENED HIS EYES!", everyone ran to the room across hers. Everyone, but her. Even though she wanted to go there so bad, the nurses wouldn't let her, even if her wounds and bruises have healed and she could already walk without any aid. And she's getting antsy by the minute.

Phoebe looked at the clock, waiting for Mike as well. He's still probably at his gig, she thought, so her mind wandered off to other things. There was a part of her that knew Rachel would be able to wake Ross up, but she didn't count on her anymore since she got on the plane after that sweet speech Ross gave. But she came back. Maybe things would work out after all. And then she would sing at their wedding.

Phoebe's attention shifted back to the door, which started to open slowly, like in one of those scary horror movies. But instead of sporting happy faces, Monica, Chandler and Joey looked emotionless, and Rachel seemed to be crying. Tears of joy, maybe? But then she saw that they were also accompanied by one of those robot doctors who just churn out medical terms that no normal person knew anything about. And to Phoebe, that was not a good sign.

"Hey guys," Phoebe said brightly, hoping to cheer them up. It didn't.

"Hey," Monica replied dully, as she, Chandler, Joey and Rachel settled on the couch. She looked at the doctor coldly, demanding an explanation for Ross.

For a moment, everything was silent. Phoebe was trying to figure out what's up with the others' behavior, or why a doctor came here with them. Monica continued to glare at the doctor, who caught her gaze as well. After what seemed like an eternity, the doctor went back to his notepad.

Monica had won the staredown.

"Ross has a severe case of what we call retrograde amnesia," the doctor began, still looking at his notepad. "It is a condition in which a person-"

"Please speak English!" Joey cut off. Chandler patted his back.

The doctor cleared his throat. "Ross was hit in the head pretty hard, therefore altering some of his memories. That's why he thinks that he's still twenty."

"I thought his brain activity's good!" Monica yelled.

"It is," the doctor replied, taken aback. "When we saw his brain scans, we already had assumptions that he might have retrograde amnesia, but we never thought that it would be as severe as this, since his hippocampus is very compactly built for a person who has just experienced a crash, and everything else but his memories was unaffected. Also, we didn't want to confirm anything until proven true. His wounds and bruises are healing quickly, and judging from said strong brain activity, I believe that he would make a swift recovery. I mean, we will have to do some tests on him for the next couple of days, but I believe he will be alright."

"That's the best news I've heard since the love of my life got into an accident after I got on that stupid plane!" Rachel said sarcastically. She stood up and snatched the notepad away from the doctor, throwing it to the door, before landing on the floor with a soft thud. Everyone was stunned, even Rachel herself. But she couldn't help it. Ross was in an extremely difficult state, mostly because of her.

"Who's the love of her life?" the doctor asked, raising an eyebrow. Joey frowned. Even he got what Rachel said.

"It's Ross you idiot!" Phoebe shouted. "Just give us the cure and we're good to go!"

"There's no medical cure," the doctor said. "You just have to remind him of all of his memories again. It's called spontaneous recovery."

And just like that, Monica lunged for the doctor, and knocked him out with one strong jab.

The thought that Ross doesn't remembering anything about the gang, about his children, about her, made Rachel want to punch a wall. What if she didn't get on the plane? What if she just admitted to herself, right then and there, that she loves Ross as well, and then they would cuddle in the backseat while Phoebe would drive and say something in the lines of, "I told you guys, you're lobsters!", or "Can I sing at your wedding?" Would the drunk driver not hit them?

Chandler and a still-pissed Monica left the hospital to give themselves and the twins some fresh air. Joey is sleeping in Phoebe's room. And Phoebe is talking to her own doctor. More like shouting, really.

Rachel had enough doctor speak for a day. She left Phoebe's room and decided to just settle in one of those chairs in the hallway. But instead, she found herself opening the door to the room across her carefree blond friend's.

There was something bugging Ross, and he didn't know why. He didn't know why those people are so abashed by the fact that he doesn't know them. He didn't know why he's here, in the hospital, with scary-looking wires and machines. He didn't know why he made that pretty lady cry, and yet, he felt like some heavy feeling dropped to his chest when he saw her shed a tear. Guilt? Maybe.

Ross was not ready to see her. Her eyes were red, and her nose was puffy. He gulped as she cautiously walked over to him. He didn't know what to do. He was like one of those mummies in Egypt - still as stone.

And the same went for Rachel. Her mind wanted to bolt out of there and run away from the hospital, but she found herself walking over to Ross, who eyed her with a look that she couldn't quite place. It's not confusion, but it's not joy either. Ball's in your court, I guess, she thought.

But the mind won over, and she found herself walking away, when Ross said something she never expected for him to say.

"You had a nose job."


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm back everyone! First off, I really want to apologize for the long absence. RL problems have been giving me headaches. Actually, it's not even solved, but I've decided to get back on this story anyway.**

**Second, I have realized that due to my messed-up construction, I put some lines in Friends-like continuity (meaning not the best continuity). For example, some people liked the nose job line, others didn't. And I also got a lot of questions about the age change. So, as one big compromise, I'm keeping the nose job line, and I'm changing his age again. I promise I now have a solid outline, and there won't be any major changes anymore. Rookie mistake. First fic after all. Please don't get tired of me.**

**Third, I would like to thank all you dear readers for sticking to this story. I cherish and value each and every one of your reviews. Whether praise or criticism, all of them are helpful for my motivation. I hope you'll like this one! And if you won't, just tell me what was unlikeable/unrealistic/insert negative adjective here about this chapter.**

**Anyway, onward!**

"What?" Rachel found herself turning back to him.

"You had a nose job," Ross repeated casually, his face innocent and nonchalant beneath the red, white, and purple.

"Yeah, but how do you know that?" A strong feeling surged through Rachel's system, a glimmer of hope, a dash of opportunity, a lead. The tingling sensation is gluing her to the spot, eager for his reply.

"It's pretty evident," he said in the same casual tone, and her heart sank.

Ross looked at her face, which is slowly turning pale. There is something about it that's bothering him. A part of him wants to reach out and ask what is wrong, to try to know how he can help, to inquire on how he can make it up to her, if he did offend her. But as a wire-tangled hand slowly began to move, logic entered his brain, caution has halted him, and the hand ended up touching the railing. Even though the same feeling is still nagging him, his guard is back up, and the thoughts of branching out are slowly fluttering away.

"Well, for me it is. But to the unobservant eye, your doctors did well," he said, hoping to cheer her up.

Rachel doesn't know why, but this comes off her the wrong way. Maybe it's because she'll always be defensive about her surgery, or because she never imagined having this conversation. With Ross, of all people. She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned.

'He's not really Ross, you know?' the thought floated by her mind, and she was eerily comforted by it. He's not Ross. He's a shadow of Ross, but he's not Ross. But he's out there, somewhere, and she can't wait to see him again.

"Anything else?" Rachel tried to say it in the same nonchalant tone but she's having a hard time since this Ross is pissing her off.

"You don't have to be so snitty about it," Ross said defensively.

Ross doesn't know what made her react like that. Either he's really clueless about girls, or he really must know her. Well, not really him, but the apparent "real" one. Who should be living in this time. Who's supposed to know her and the other people. Who's probably trapped in his body, but can't get out. The realization slowly kicked in, and for Ross, it doesn't feel good. He feels nauseous, he feels anxious, he feels embarrassed. His gaze was fixed upon the unfamiliar show playing on TV, a faint voice repeating "California" over and over. But even if he's scared of looking at her, his mind is focused on her. He shouted at her. He was insensitive to her. He made her cry. And she must be really important to him, for she came back even if he did all those things. It seems really thick for him to ask, but before the thought sank in, the words blurted out from his mouth.

"Am I supposed to know any of you?"

Rachel, who was looking at her boots, looked at him. Ross, who realized what he must have said, turned his head back to her. And their eyes meet.

Blue meets brown. Brown meets blue. Something seemed to click, but both of them don't really know what it is. But there is definitely a spark. It's not a lead, or a bad feeling, but it's something. And it dawned on them, both of them, that no matter what, they're connected somehow. For a moment, there is no TV, no incessant beeping from the machines, no New York traffic from the windows. It is just them.

Along with them, time seemed to stop still.

For Rachel, it seemed like when she got off the plane again. But this time, it seems like they have exchanged roles. For she is the one whose mouth is half-open in shock, taken aback by a statement of the other. And this Ross, this Ross is sporting an apologizing, almost pleading look, a look that almost mirrored hers when she stood on that doorway. And it is haunting her. Another strange thing, is that this Ross asked that question, in almost the same tone Ross would use whenever someone's down or in dire need of cheering up. It was not casual, it was not nonchalant. The tone of his voice when he asked that question cared, or at least tried to. And she doesn't know how to answer.

"Sorry!" was the last thing she heard as she softly closed the door.

The minute Joey entered Apartment 19, he knew something is wrong. Nearly empty fridge. Open TV (which is showing an ep of DOOL, something he never watches, ironically). The bathroom is unoccupied. Thinking that Rach decided to spend the night in the hospital, he settled leaned on the kitchen countertop, a hand holding a bottle of beer, the other hand feeling for his meatball sub, but accidentally pressed the messages button in the phone.

"Joe? This is Rachel. I've decided to stay with my Mom and Emma for a bit okay? Can you please tell the others that? It's just that…there's too much stress. Uh…I need a time off, I think. Please don't worry about me. I'm okay, really. Uh…just keep me updated on Ross will you? Thanks."

"How could we not worry about her?"

Monica, Chandler, Phoebe, and Mike were eating dinner that Monica brought to Phoebe's room, while the twins fell asleep. Then Joey came bursting through the door with the news that Rachel has moved out of his apartment. Dinner was ignored (except by Joey, who's finishing off everyone else's leftovers), and Monica is on full-contingency mode.

"Honestly honey, with that tone, we should be worrying about you," Chandler attempted a joke. While Phoebe and Mike laughed a bit, and Joey choked on his food, Monica gave him a look which made him retreat to his own plate.

"I want to know what happened with her and Ross in that room!"

"We all do Monica, but you said that Ross is asleep," Mike calmly said.

"Let's wake him up then!" Monica stood up from her seat and began to saunter off across the hallway.

"Monica E. Geller, get your ass back here now!"

Everyone turned their heads to Phoebe, who was the source of the remark. Monica stopped in her tracks immediately. The blond smiled happily to herself.

"Street Phoebe's still got it! Anyway, you can't force that out of either Ross or Rachel, because she would just be stressed out, and he doesn't even know how old he is! You got me?"

Everybody did.

In the following days, everyone fell into routine. Ross is usually being given tests, made to go to the psychologist, talking to the doctor (more calmly than ever). Phoebe has finally fully recovered and was free to go, Monica and Chandler most of their boxes to Westchester, and Joey went to and failed three auditions. They all haven't heard from Rachel, but due to Phoebe's insistence, they all stopped communicating with her for a while, giving her time and space to breathe.

Whenever they're not working, they're visiting Ross, who is usually asleep from all of the medical activity. Knowing that he won't always be asleep, and that he would probably ask about his life, the four of them have also decided to split Ross' life in four categories – Monica answers questions about his job (since she was the only one willing to talk about paleontology), Chandler answers questions about his love life (minus Rachel), Joey answers questions about modern-day pop culture, and Phoebe answers questions about his family. They have decided not to include Rachel in their topics because it is one touchy subject. And also, as Phoebe said, "It is not our story. It is for her to tell him, because it is their story. It's a Lobster story."

When Ross woke up, he feels like he's been sleeping for a long time, like Captain America. He looked at his hands, which are now free of wires. He touched his face. It didn't hurt, or sear, or burn. It lacked of the roughness of bandages. He looked around. The machines are turned off. They must have cleaned him up last night. And his confused frown disappeared as well.

Ross quickly jumped off the bed, ecstatic that he is no longer confined to a gurney. He took a shower, found some clothes in the room's lone closet, and looked around once more.

It was only then noticed a dark-haired woman whose arms are resting on the railing of his bed. Knowing how that predicament must be uncomfortable, he poked a cautious finger on her head, which is resting on her arms.

"Uh…hello?"

Monica opened her eyes with the alertness of a drill sergeant. She looked up and saw Ross, her big brother, sporting the same concerned look he would always sport whenever she would come home crying when she was bullied in kindergarten.

"Ross!"

Phoebe, Joey, and Chandler had come back from their quick breakfast at the cafeteria. Chandler handed a brown paper bag to Monica, looked at the siblings, and cautiously gave Monica a kiss on the cheek. All four looked at their recently hospitalized friend.

"Uh…do you know where to get a decent cup of coffee?" Ross asked.

Monica and the others exchanged knowing looks, and smiled at him.

"We know a place."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi guys. It's been a long time, I know. I'm trying my best to make time for this story, I really am. So again, thanks to all the people who reviewed the previous chapter. Every tip, praise or critique is very much appreciated.**

**Exintaris – You're right. I am not a native English speaker. I am, however, moving to an English-speaking country real soon, and this is one of the many, many ways I'm trying to get my grammar into shape.**

**Anyway, I hope you'll like this chapter.**

It was the most excruciating thirty minutes of Monica's life.

Due to the doctors' advice, and insistence, to not attack Ross at once with a truckload full of information, she and the others have grudgingly decided to put off introductions for a moment, and let Ross do the talking. But not once did Ross talk. Not one bit. She couldn't blame him though. He was probably too speechless or taken aback by the changes in the city. But it didn't stop her from feeling uncomfortable. The only thing that kept her from flipping out was Chandler's reassuring hand holding her own, though she knew that they share the same mutual feeling. Good thing they dropped off the twins at Long Island. Monica didn't want to see her children while she's such in a nervous wreck, and she feels like bringing the twins along would just bring up a lot of questions that Ross would probably be not ready for. So, for a whole thirty minutes, all that enveloped the cab were silence, the faint sounds from the radio and traffic, and the uncontrollable gurgling from Joey's stomach. Monica heaved a sigh of relief as the car slowed down to a stop – to a little place that had been home to them for so long, and will probably always be.

Joey and Phoebe, who were tired of being quiet, mischievously smiled at each other as they gallantly opened the doors like doormen in one of those fancy Park Avenue hotels. While Monica and Chandler gave them weird looks as they passed, Joey and Phoebe just nodded at each other, and Joey loudly said four words that perked up Ross's attention.

"This…is Central Perk."

Ross was finding New York a most peculiar place. The moment he left the hospital, he knew something was different. He was grateful that the others let him ride shotgun on the cab, so that he could ponder on his thoughts properly. He knew that keeping quiet must be hard for them, but he is glad they did. He wouldn't know what he would've done if a flurry of information just shot straight from their mouths. No matter how important the information may be, his brain might think it's too much, and he's afraid that it would just trigger a fit of rage, just like he had done some days ago. He couldn't risk it. Not yet.

So Ross let himself wander and navigate New York by himself – he listened to the songs that played on the radio, he looked at the assortment of people populating the sidewalks, he marveled at the new infrastructures towering over the Manhattan skyline. And for the first time in his life, Ross found himself being glad about the traffic jam. It's nice to know that some things just never change.

Ross was the last one to get out of the cab. He was still so busy, and dizzy, looking at how much had changed over the course of fifteen years. But then he heard the words, "Central Perk." Ross looked down, and found himself staring at a quaint little coffee shop in Greenwich Village.

On the outside, it is by no means special. It looked like an ordinary coffee shop – with ordinary coffee, ordinary staff, ordinary customers. But as soon as he stepped into the brown carpet, Ross knew that there is more to this place than he thinks. The smells brewing from the coffee makers seem to exude familiarity, the atmosphere doesn't seem strange, and he has a weird feeling that he had seen the bright-haired guy manning the bar before. He just couldn't place it. All in all, the place isn't too bad.

"Hello, I'm Polly! Wanna sit down as I take your order?"

"Huh?" Ross's thoughts were interrupted by a chirpy voice he couldn't quite place. "Oh, okay then."

Polly then brought him to an orange couch where a basketful of muffins is being eaten in a carnivorous manner by the dark-haired man who got the airquotes wrong. Judging by the way he's eating his food, Ross guessed that he's the type of guy who should not be disturbed whenever he's hungry.

"I'll just have a latte," Ross said to Polly, before the latter practically skipped to the bar.

"Hey," Joey said in a muffled voice, getting crumbs all over the couch. "Sorry about that. Want a muffin? Last time I checked, blueberry's your favorite."

Ross grinned. So blueberry is still his favorite muffin. Even just a trivial thing like that made him smile. It made him feel that he and the "real" Ross are the same person somehow. That things can be fixed. That things, in some strange way, could go back to normal.

"Well, judging from your appetite, I'm guessing you need it more than I do."

Monica and Chandler, who were chatting up Gunther, who was asking about how Ross is doing, heard the loud laughing coming from their couch. And they were even more surprised to see who it was. It was Joey. And Ross. Ross and Joey are laughing. Ross and Joey are talking. Ross and Joey are having a conversation that looks so normal Monica couldn't help but squeal as she buried her head in Chandler's shoulder, and Chandler was smiling as well.

Joey couldn't believe how normal this is. It's like Ross never left. Here they are, talking about muffins, laughing at how crumbs fall whenever he utters even a single syllable. Heck, Ross is saying some words that he can't understand, but that's Ross. An idea crossed his mind, but he doesn't know if he should take action. Joey looked at Chandler, and then Phoebe. Both gave reassuring nods. Joey gulped, before nodding as well. And so, as Ross took a sip of his coffee, Joey decided to take the leap of faith.

"My name's Joey by the way."

Ross cautiously placed down his cup on the table, and the others discreetly looked at him, waiting for his reaction. Even himself. How should he reply to that? The guy already knows who he is, so…what now? For a moment, his brain seemed to freeze. But then he remembered how this group of people waited patiently for him to acknowledge them, to be calm, to open his eyes. And he must give them his best as well. So slowly, a hand was held up in the mid-air, and Ross's features relaxed into a small smile.

"I would like to say I'm Ross, but you already know that, so I guess I'll just say nice to meet you Joey."

It was the others' turn to be still. Did Ross just hold up for a handshake? Did Ross just smile? Did Ross just say, "Nice to meet you" to Joey? A week ago, he was shouting hurtful things at them. And now, he's smiling at them. Monica is glad, of course, but it's still kind of weird. She needed a sign of assurance, a sign that this wasn't just a fluke, a sign that this is real.

"What?" Ross's smile broke into a sheepish grin. "Won't you rather have this than a raging outburst in a public place?"

Everyone relaxed after that.

Phoebe introduced herself with a song that went along the lines of "You and I are great friends/But don't talk to me about gravity/Or I'll turn you into gravy," which made Ross laugh. He found Phoebe to be eccentric yet cool at the same time. Chandler's re-introduction was kind of tricky. The last thing on Ross's memory about Chandler was that he didn't like him one bit. But this Chandler seems nice enough, and if the "real" Ross had been able to befriend Chandler after all those years, then Ross thought that Chandler can't be that bad.

As her friends re-introduced themselves to Ross, Monica made herself sit on the furthest corner of the couch, anxious about her own re-introducing. How would she open up? Joey just went for it, Phoebe went with a clever song number, and Chandler shelled out one of his wittiest remarks. How would she top that? And if she could, what would Ross say? Even if Ross is acknowledging them, Monica knows that he still hasn't completely warmed up to them, which is understandable. But it still isn't stopping her from worrying. What if he would think that the information is too much? A friend is one thing, a sister is another. Would he shun her? Will he lose control? She doesn't know. For the first time in a long time, Monica is scared.

"Hey."

Monica found her shoulder tapped by none other than her brother. She saw that Chandler, Joey, and Phoebe have left the couch and took the other seats surrounding the table. They knew that this is gonna be a make-or-break, momentous brother-sister moment, and none of them want to ruin it. They were all nervous for Monica as well, but hid it by giving her reassuring smiles.

"I guess it's your turn?" Ross asked casually, with a hint of concern. She seemed really nervous, and he's a hundred percent sure it's because of him. "And don't worry," he added. "I don't bite."

Monica gulped. There was that look again. That look of concern that greeted her whenever she would come home from school crying because of bullies. And that tone. That tone that he had used a thousand times whenever she felt down – from being stood up, from being criticized by their mother, from losing jobs, that tone always gave her the reassurance that she'll make it. And just like that, Monica's fears slowly diminished.

"I'm Monica," she slowly said.

"Huh. That's funny, I have a sister named Monica," Ross replied, before his eyes widened.

Ross looked at the woman sitting in front of him, and he couldn't believe it. His hand let go of his shoulder, before looking at her again. This time, he focused on her eyes. It is sporting a look that he had seen so many times before – and he knew of only one person who could possess this look. And just like that, Ross was sure that his baby sister is right in front of him. How could he not have seen that a week ago? 'Must be the meds,' he thought, before shifting his attention back to Monica again. He doesn't know what to say. He wants to ask about so much. But before he could stop himself, the words popped out of his mouth.

"How did you lose all that weight?"

Monica laughed. "You're such a doofus."

"No you're the doofus. Doofus."

As the siblings hugged each other, the others joined as well, and all of them felt like a piece of the puzzle has been placed back to its rightful place.

They've spent the next couple of hours talking, reminiscing about Ross and Monica's childhood memories over coffee and muffins. For Gunther, who wasn't really officially part of the gang, but has been a witness of some of their important moments, seeing the group hang out, laugh, and crack jokes made him smile. This group of people will always have a special place in his heart, and he is glad to see that life is slowly going back to normal for them. When Monica informed him of the accident a few days ago, he felt heartbroken. Even if Ross is his "archenemy," he is admittedly a nice guy and doesn't deserve what happened to him. But seeing him now, slowly acknowledging and communicating with the gang, Gunther knows that everything will go back into place. 'Now if only Rachel were here,' he thought.

Ross was immensely enjoying himself in the company of his "friends." He is definitely feeling right at home in the group, and he couldn't help but want his memories back. Sure, he would probably have new and equally great memories with them, but he knows it wouldn't be the same. This incident had changed everything – their group, his memories, himself. He hopes that this spontaneous recovery would actually work on him. He is smart after all.

"So Ross," Phoebe said, "whatcha think about us?"

Ross smiled, before saying, "I've only known you guys for hours and you're four of the coolest people I've ever hung out with. You guys are making me want my memories back more than ever."

And with that, Rachel Green entered the coffee house.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi. I won't even bother explaining myself. Sorry. That's all I really have to say. And uh, hope you like this chapter. Happy new year.**

Time should have done Rachel Green good. For the past week, she had done nothing but relax, take care of Emma, making up for lost time with her mother, and relax. The past week had been the least stressful she had in what seemed like a lifetime. She walked into the jungle streets of New York with a positive outlook and a smile on her face. Inside her head, she tried to figure out all the things that could have happened in a week. She thought she had prepared herself well. But, in those million ideas inside her head, she was not prepared for this.

Was it just her, or has this scenario happened, like, a decade ago?

A group of friends were crowded around one, and they were all chatting, laughing, smiling. She entered the room; a silence envelops the coffee house. The bartender with shiny hair stares at her – but instead of being lovesick, he seemed…blank. The group of friends turned to her direction, and Rachel got the same dull looks from them. A slender, dark-haired woman was the first to stand up, just like ten years ago.

"Rachel," she smiled, and hugged her best friend.

"Monica," she trailed off, unable to think of what to say next. Just like the _girl _in the puffy white wedding dress a long, long time ago. The scenario that she had planned out in her head was a far cry from this. She expected for Monica to shout for not informing her of leaving, she expected for Phoebe to be excited, she expected for Ross to be on the brink of a breakdown right now. But no. Instead, they were chatting and laughing, like normal friends they were.

"Hi Rach," Phoebe, Joey, and Chandler said in unison. Rach sighed in relief. She was already thinking about whether she had time traveled to 1994, and was half-expecting for Monica to say, "Guys, this is Rachel, another Lincoln High survivor." She suddenly felt very uncomfortable under the glare of the bright sunshine, the stare from Gunther, and the fact that Ross was the only one who didn't acknowledge her presence. Why would he anyway?, she reminded herself that he wasn't really Ross.

But then Ross stood up, and Rachel swore she had seen the just-divorced young adult for a fraction of a second there. Nope, he didn't hold an umbrella, but he did possess the same shyness that he had before. He looked well, for a person who had been recently hospitalized and got his whole head messed up, which made her smile inside. She was glad he's well. Heck, she wanted to wrap her arms around him at once and never let him go again. But she couldn't. And she wouldn't. At least not right now.

"Hi," Ross said in his trademark I-have-all-the-problems voice. Like the Ross who remembered her as the clueless spoiled brat who eventually worked for Ralph Lauren, due to her own hard work.

"Hi," she replied. She was still overwhelmed over this major development. It had only been two weeks. Only been two freaking weeks since that fateful nose job fiasco. What on earth happened after that? But then again, a lot could have happened in two weeks, let alone an hour.

Monica and Chandler looked at each other in relief. Ross and Rachel got through greetings without tears or mental breakdowns. Chandler raised an eyebrow at his wife, who nodded. It was time.

"So, Ross, we're gonna leave you to Rachel for a sec," Monica treaded carefully. "Chandler and I have to take care of Westchester." In truth, she and Chandler were going to take the twins from Judy, but they didn't tell Ross about the twins yet. Not after he almost made a fit after he found out that Chandler and Monica were married.

"_You married my sister? No, let me rephrase that. You banged my sister? My little sister? In my own freaking wedding? What did we talk about in college you bastard?!"_

"_Ross, relax. I love Chandler. And please, stop saying bang, it's creeping me out."_

"_But we had a deal! I want my hundred bucks."_

"_What deal?" Joey inquired._

"_It was college. We were drunk. Obviously, this Ross remembers. We came up with this "No banging of relatives" rule. A hundred bucks penalty," Chandler sighed, fishing for money in his wallet._

Chandler stood up, and nudged Joey in the shoulder. Joey got the idea, and quickly finished the last blueberry muffin before he rose from his seat as well. "Gotta go too buddy," he said to Ross. "Got this audition for an Al Pacino movie." Before Ross could laugh, "And no, I'm not a butt double this time." Still, Ross smiled. Joey was the first one to have the courage to reach out to him – that, he would never forget. "Hope you'll crack your way this time Joe," he joked, and even Joey had to laugh.

"How about you Pheebs?" Monica looked at the blonde intensely. "Isn't Mike coming home today?"

"Mike's coming home to…" Phoebe was about to say "tomorrow," when she saw how Monica looked at her. Oh. "Yes. Mike's coming home today. I guess I better go, since I really want a Buffay-Hannigan baby like right now."

"Ew, too much info Pheebs," Ross quipped. Rachel's eyes widened – a) because it really was too much information, and b) why on earth was Ross making snide remarks to Joey and Phoebe when, just a few days ago, he was screaming about how he hates all of them? Was she the one with retrograde amnesia right now? And that was when she realized that: Everyone left her with Ross. And she was so not ready.

"So, Rachel Karen Green…" Ross trailed off. "Who are you in my past life?"

Yep. Rachel Karen Green was not prepared for this.

The thing was, Ross knew that the lady right in front of him was Rachel Green. He already had a feeling as soon as he saw those wonderful blue eyes a couple of weeks ago, and he had pondered about that thought throughout his recovery period in the hospital. And hours earlier, Monica confirmed it. But that was it. He knew nothing on why they know each other; he didn't know why she cried days earlier, he didn't know why she insisted on taking a walk through Central Park, though the fresh air was nice. Whenever he asked about Rachel, the other five insisted that it was better if he asked Rachel herself.

Rachel needed air. Rachel needed to think. And most of all, Rachel needed moral support. But, right now, despite the fresh park air, or Ross's patient silence, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, and she was kind of pissed at Monica and the others for leaving her in the air and uninformed. This was their plan? To leave her and Ross alone? Right after everything that happened? What the heck.

"What do you want to know?"

They settled on a bench under a shady tree. The summer leaves were beginning to redden, and they were dancing with the wind. And to Ross, nose job or not, Rachel Green was the most beautiful girl on the planet. Ross still called her a girl for he still thought of her as one. The girl who completely ignored his presence since kindergarten. The girl who everyone adored. The girl who completely took him for granted but still, he loved her anyway.

"I want to know why are you talking to me, when fifteen years ago, you practically didn't know I existed. I want to know why you cried in that hospital room. I want to know how our paths crossed together again. I want to know why Monica and the others won't talk about you to me. I want to know why Phoebe keeps teasing me to you. I want to know everything," he said in the most sincere, gentle way he could.

Rachel was kind of relieved that he wasn't all demanding about asking for information, for she was sure she would have ran back to Long Island in tears if he did. The overwhelming sensation has never left her system, and this moment was a make it or break it one. Fight or flight. Sink or swim. Before she could think rationally, she decided to do the brave thing.

"Let me begin by saying that this is probably the longest storybook that you'll ever hear."

"I'm willing to listen."

Rachel sighed. This is it. "Well…I guess it all started in that coffee house, Central Perk. I was about to get married to this douche, Barry Farber, do you remember him?"

"Yeah, he was one of those bastard sons of a doctor that your father keeps setting you up with. He was five, four years older than us right?"

"Yes. Well, five minutes before the wedding began, I ran away, because I realized that I didn't love him. I loved his money. I was more in love with the gravy boat that my sister gave me."

Ross laughed. Typical Rachel. But in a good way.

Hearing Ross laugh gave Rachel a sense of confidence. His laugh gave her more reasons to continue with this. She felt like she was doing something right. She slowly lifted her head from the ground.

"I didn't know anyone in New York, and I was running around for a while, looking like a stupid runaway bride, looking for any place to stay. I was already tired when I reached West Village, and the first establishment I see is Central Perk. And there I found the five people who would change my life for the better – and forever."

Ross nodded. Monica didn't really talk about this earlier, for all them, especially Phoebe, kept repeating "It's not our story to tell."

"Monica let me be her roommate. On my first night there, you admitted that you had a crush on me in high school."

"WHAT?!"

Crap. Shoot. Crap. Crap. Shoot. Why. Why. Why. A jumble of incoherent thoughts entered Ross's mind at once. What the heck. Why. Why would he do that? Was his "real" self stupid or something? Shoot. What did Rachel think of him? Surely she laughed. Why are they still on speaking terms again? Oh shoot. It's the pity. She pitied his real self, which was why she cried at the hospital. That his pitiful, pathetic life was almost over. Dang it. He bit his lip.

"Ross…it was okay. I said I knew, and then we became the best of friends after that. We were even laundry buddies. You taught me how to do laundry. You were there for me when I broke up with an Italian guy. You let me win at poker even though you were the rightful winner because I lost a job at Saks."

Ross heaved a sigh of relief. He was pretty sure they weren't even halfway in the story and he already had a panic attack. He was excruciating.

"But then…"

"But then?"

"Relax. But then...came my birthday. You were assigned to China, to look for some dinosaur bones. I opened my gifts – a grand of total of six, because my family was still pissed at me for "ruining the family name," and all the gifts came from you guys and this weird girl that Joey dated for a week. I got a weird fruit basket from her, which I ended up giving to Joey by the way, a Dr. Seuss book from Joey himself…"

"Are you sure Joey's girlfriend didn't give you green eggs and ham?" Ross joked.

"Shut up," she smiled. But she was secretly glad. He was kind of reacting positively, minus the whole crush thing. This was more than she hoped for. "Chandler got me a stupid Scrabble game, Mon got me a blouse…and you…you…"

"And me?" What the heck did he do, Ross thought.

"You got me this most beautiful brooch that almost resembled my grandmother's own. It was so beautiful. And that…and that was the day that I realized that I had feelings for you too."


	8. Chapter 8

**Whoa. Also, if I owned Friends, the rumors of a reunion would be true.**

For as long as he could remember, Ross didn't believe in fairy tales. Even as a young boy, he didn't subscribe to stories of talking mice, menacing green ogres, or fire-breathing dragons. He was already into science to let his imagination float to made-up places. However, there was one fairy tale that he would like to believe in – it was the story of one Rachel Green finally having feelings for him. It was a good story, at least to the young Ross. It wouldn't matter where she would say it, or when, as long as she did. However, Ross classified that incredulous story as a fairy tale for a reason: it would never come true.

But apparently, it has.

"That was when I realized, I had feelings for you too." Rachel's voice kept echoing through his head, and Ross didn't know how to feel about it.

He looked at the clock on his nightstand. 11 pm. He sighed. He got into bed at about 8. Three hours later, his eyes were still wide open. Ever since he had gotten out of the hospital, he had trouble sleeping, which, according to the doctor, was normal. Still, it didn't stop it from being annoying.

Ross got out of bed and went into the hallway. Monica decided that his room should be across hers' and Chandler's, just in case he would have one of his "mental breakdowns." It was unnecessary really, Ross thought. He only had breakdowns whenever his mind felt it was receiving too much information. That unfortunately, happened hours earlier. Well, sort of.

"_F-f-feelings? F-f-for me? Me, Ross. You. I mean, uh, what. Uh, wow. Sorry. I-I-I don't know what to say Rach. I mean, wow. I mean, I should shut up."_

"_No Ross, it's okay."_

"_No, it's not, I probably look like I'm having an asthma attack right now and it's not even funny because I don't have asthma and I realize that I'm talking really fast right now but that's how I get whenever I'm nervous and uh…does he still talk like this whenever he gets nervous?"_

"_Not always. Sometimes though, when you get really excited or anxious about something." Rachel felt uncomfortable about saying "he," since after that one-week retreat, she decided that he is Ross, and that Ross just got a blow to the head, and it's up to her and Monica and everyone to patch it up._

_Ross exhaled nervously and ran a hand through his hair, which was still weird for him since it wasn't curly anymore. Maybe he had enough for today. Maybe this storybook really would be the longest thing he'd ever hear since that tape on the entire history of paleontology he listened to when he was in high school. And if that was gonna be the case, he needed to work out some deal before he'd burst into a bubble of confusion and overwhelming emotions._

_He didn't realize that they've been silent for well over a minute now. Everything seemed to be louder than them for a moment. The wind was howling noisily, taking the crisp leaves along their journey. The faint buzzes from cars and traffic echoed lightly from the park. The lively chatter from family picnics could be heard from the left. And Rachel, Rachel was the center of it all, looking up at the light blue sky, as if she was actually wishing for something. Probably for him not to turn into a stupid brat who'd make a hissy fit in a freaking public place._

"_Rach."_

"_Huh," Rachel shifted back her attention to Ross, who seemed to be calmer than the stuttering guy he'd been about ten minutes ago. And she was relieved._

"_I'm thinking we should take a break. For today I mean."_

_Rachel chuckled. And Ross smiled. 'Her laugh never changed,' he thought, and decided that it was definitely one of the prettiest sounds he had ever heard of in his life._

"_You know, the last time we were on a break it didn't end well."_

"_Yeah? Why is that?"_

_Rachel shook her head. 'Too early,' she thought. "That would be page 394 of the…thing."_

"_Wow. So, I'll see you whenever then? Monica said that we are all friends, so I guess you also hang around in that coffee house as well."_

"_Yeah. I'll see you around."_

And while it wasn't as severe as the ones he had in the hospital, that stuttering was definitely a trigger to something even messier, and it was a good thing Ross was able to control it and stop. He helped Rachel get a cab, and then he hailed for his own afterwards. They decided that it would be wise that they didn't take the same cab, plus Rachel said she had somewhere to go to anyway.

"So? How did it go?"

Phoebe unceremoniously called Rachel at 11:30 pm, at the exact moment Rachel finally decided to get some shuteye after a tiring conversation with a talkative mother and a less-eventful story time with Emma. 'At least she didn't stutter when she found out that the Prince was the bad guy,' Rachel pouted to herself when she heard the phone ring.

"What did it go?" she groggily replied to her weirdly chipper friend.

"The thing, with Ross."

"Why is everyone calling it the thing?" she asked exasperatedly.

"Isn't it a thing?"

After a small period of silence, Rachel finally replied. "I dunno," were the only words she could get out of her mouth.

The truth was, Rachel really didn't know. During that one week, she had decided on what to do with her current employment situation. She knew how long she should be able to tell Ross everything. She had planned on how Emma and her father would meet. But what she forgot to look at was…how did she feel about Ross right now?

"Yo, dude."

Ross nearly jumped at the sight of Joey Tribbiani knocking on the Westchester house's front door window with a creepy smile on his face.

"Joey?" Ross asked as he opened the door.

"No, it's Al Pacino."

"I thought sarcasm was Chandler's thing."

"It does feel weird coming from my mouth huh?"

"Yeah."

Joey showed up at the new Monica-Chandler abode at 12:30 in the morning for he was too excited to keep the good news to himself. He just got a second callback for the supporting role in an Al Pacino movie and apparently he was the frontrunner for the part. He continuously babbled about his great audition to Ross, who was glad that Joey was around to distract him from his thoughts.

So just for a few hours, Ross did forget about thoughts of Rachel, and feelings, and breaks, and Rachel. And was he ever so glad.

Ross woke up to a scream. It wasn't exactly the scream that you'd hear on horror movies. It was more like a wail. A shout? A cry. Below his bed was Joey Tribbiani, snoring like one of the seven dwarves. Ross wondered how he could've slept so soundly with that racket near his eardrums. Careful not to wake Joe up, he tiptoed like a little kid to the room across his, where the noise seemed to be coming from. And when he opened the door, it was definitely not what he expected.

There, by the window, sat his little sister, holding a little thing. And the little thing is a person – a baby, to be exact. She looks so serene, he thought as he looked around the room he's in. Pastel colors, childproof locks here and there, cribs; this was a nursery.

There's a nursery in Monica and Chandler's house.

There's a baby in Monica and Chandler's house.

"Hey Mon, Jack's feeling kind of under the weather – uh oh," Ross heard Chandler's voice from behind him. He turned around and saw another child, who really did look pale.

Rephrase that: there are babies in Monica and Chandler's house.

"What?" Monica asked in a sing-song voice, when she saw Ross standing in the middle of it all.

"Ross, honey."

"Don't 'honey' me, you're not Mom!"

"We wanted to tell you!" Chandler contributed.

"Then why didn't you?"

"Dude – did you remember how you reacted when you found out that I 'banged' your sister?"

And Ross did. They were genuinely looking out for him and he didn't even realize it. He looked down at the carpet flooring, slightly embarrassed with himself. "You named the boy after Dad?" Monica nodded. "And we named the girl after her mother." Before Ross could ask, Chandler said, "Yeah, we adopted them. And they're wonderful. So, while we're on the subject of children…" he trailed off, and looked at Monica for a seal of approval.

"Yeah?"

"You also have your own two kids."

Ross was about to answer when another kid named Joey came in. "Hey guys, you making pancakes?"

Ross didn't really have a particular feeling on children. He was never around one, except for the rare and occasional family reunions – well, there was Monica, but they were almost the same age so they practically grew up at the same time. So he didn't know how to feel when he heard from Chandler that he, like him, is a father. And that they're older than the babies. If they're older, that meant that they already have their own minds, own thoughts, own opinions. What would they think of him?

He realized that he should face the fact that this is life now, and he must catch up with it if he wants to stay sane. Children are a huge responsibility – he couldn't ignore that. So he decided. No more whining or complaining about why he wasn't a college student anymore or throwing childish fits of rage. He's gonna take control of those emotions – no more blaming the brain. In short, enough of being a pussy.

When Carol heard about the accident, she was shocked. Even Susan felt the same. But Ben? Ben was hurt. He was smart enough to know that it wasn't an ordinary crash, from what he'd heard from the hush-hush discussions his mothers made whenever they thought he was asleep. For a while the boy couldn't focus on his studies for he kept thinking about his dad. And his little sister, and Aunt Monica, and Aunt Rachel. They all must be as hurt as him. So when he heard Uncle Chandler on the phone, he knew that his dad was already okay – well, sort of. He's out of the hospital, so for Ben, that meant good.

"Mom, will you please get my dinosaur t-shirt? I think Dad would like that. Oh! And I also drew a picture – do you think he will like this?"

Monica kept giving Ross weird looks throughout the cab ride. What happened yesterday that Ross seemed so calm today? Was it Rachel? Was it Joey (how did he get to the house again)? She didn't know, and she hated not knowing.

"What?" Ross asked Monica.

"I dunno, what's with the uh, sudden interest to take charge?"

"If you found out that you've got a kid that you didn't know about, how would you feel?"

So it was Ben. And Emma. Well, for now, it was Ben. Chandler did tell Ross that he also has a daughter named Emma, but there is no way in heck Monica would allow Chandler to say who Emma's mother is. So Chandler said that Emma's mother is "busy."

"Seriously Mon, Carol's a lesbian?"

"Yeah."

"So I slept with a lesbian?" Ross raised an eyebrow, and snickered.

"Ugh, what is it with you college boys and lesbianism?" Monica laughed as well.

The siblings arrived at Carol and Susan's apartment thirty minutes into the noon. When the doorbell rang, Ben ran from his room to the door. He stood over a stool and peered at the peephole. There's Aunt Mon…and there's

"Dad!"

An energetic little boy opened the door, and immediately Ross sensed himself in him. Minus the blond hair (obviously Carol's), this child could practically be him when he was nine. Brown eyes, a dinosaur t-shirt, and a kiddie dinosaur armband. The boy's eyes shined the way Ross used to watch the paleontology documentaries on TV when he was a child, and in that moment, Ross knew he made the right decision to get up.

"Hi Ben," Ross knelt down to the boy's eye level. "I brought you something," and then he held out a box of candy. According to Monica, Ben loved candy. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm great," Ben grinned widely. His mom told him to be cautious, but all warnings were thrown out the window the moment he saw his dad smile back. He wrapped his little arms around Ross and said, "I got an A during a science pop quiz yesterday."

Phase one of being not a pussy: complete.


	9. Chapter 9

**That was fast (compared to the last gap, at least).**

The whole day seemed to be going great for Rachel. Earlier in the morning, Amy Green unceremoniously dropped by to say that she left her fiancé's place – for real this time. She even got herself her own apartment, and used her own money. For Rachel, it was a pleasant surprise; she was definitely proud of her sister. During lunch, she got a call from Louis Vuitton's New York office that her interview yesterday passed and she was hired. When she called Mark to decline the Paris offer a week ago, she had to admit: it was hard. It was Paris after all, a once in a lifetime opportunity. Still, Rachel was grateful that she got herself a job. And good thing she was able to stop her cargo from arriving on French soil. Her friends were pleased as well – Rachel could have her dream job without having to leave the city at all. The gang was officially back together. She smiled at the thought – New York was where she truly belonged.

It was already six in the evening and Rachel was preparing dinner while Emma watched a documentary on National Geographic; her mother went to check out Amy's apartment. Obviously, the toddler couldn't understand the narration very well but her eyes sparkled at the view. It was beginning to become a favorite channel and it reminded Rachel of Ross so much that sometimes she'd get the urge to turn off the TV on their daughter. They were having spaghetti, another Emma favorite. She had just turned on the stove when she heard her cellphone beep.

"Hey Rach. Uh, Ross here. I was wondering if you want to meet up tonight? It's okay if you're not, really, it's cool. Um…let's meet at that coffee house at around seven thirty? Just send a message if you're up for it. This cellphone thing is weird. Heh, just had to say it to someone. 'Kay then."

Rachel mused over the message for a bit. Ross texted; and it wasn't just any text message, he was asking for them to meet up. It was probably for the "thing" (she still had no other label for it). Weird, but…good.

"Pheebs?"

"Yup?"

"Could you and Mike watch over for a bit?"

"Sure! I love hanging out with Emma! Just one question Rach – why?" Phoebe smiled knowingly. She knew exactly why; she just wanted to hear Rachel say it.

"I'm meeting someone." More specifics please, Phoebe thought.

"Really? Who? Oh my gosh, Rach, do you have a date?"

"Ugh, no. It's with Ross."

Bingo. "Oh…it's not a date. And it's with Ross. What is it then?"

"It's just…" Rachel racked her brain for an appropriate word. Phoebe can be such a…such a…she can't even find a word for that either. "We're just meeting up!" she ended up exclaiming.

"Rach, you don't have to be all defensive about it."

"I'm not."

"Which is what exactly what a defensive person would say."

Mike and Phoebe arrived thirty minutes later, and they brought a box of brownies with them. Phoebe wasn't kidding; they loved babysitting Emma since they could practice on her before they start having children themselves. The toddler's attention was diverted from Meerkat Manor to the baked goods; she loved brownies. Rachel looked at the clock – seven P.M. Perfect. She quickly thanked her friends for agreeing to babysit and gave Emma a kiss on the cheek before she got out of the apartment.

"I'll be back by nine – hopefully," Rachel told them as she walked to the door.

"Don't forget to use protection!" she heard Phoebe jokingly shout just as the door closed.

Rachel saw him at the bar, talking to Gunther. She couldn't exactly see his face, but judging by Gunther's, they seemed to be having good conversation. She looked at her watch: 7:25.

Ross was talking to Gunther about coffee. Nothing personal, he was just curious about coffee and its flavors and how it's made. Even before the accident, Monica told him that he wasn't really close with the Central Perk manager so Ross couldn't think of anything else to talk about. They were in the middle of discussing how commercialized Starbucks had become, when Gunther said:

"Your date's here."

"What? I don't have a date." Ross turned around. "Oh…"

Rachel was standing in front of him, and she gave a slight little wave. He waved back, and stood up as well. He ran a hand through his hair; it was easily becoming a habit. She looked pretty, as always. Ross decided that he would talk first, for a change.

"So, I wasn't on our couch since well, I didn't want to hog it all to myself. And also I hope you don't mind that I got your number from Phoebe."

Rachel was puzzled at first. Our couch? Then she realized that he meant that it was theirs – the six of them. Rachel shook her head and smiled to herself. So that's why Phoebe was being so extremely pushy and giddy during that phone call. She knew that Ross asked to meet up with her. Pheebs, you never change, Rachel thought.

"Or did you?"

"Oh, no!" Rachel hadn't realized that Ross was waiting for a reply. "So…you ready?"

Ross shrugged. "I'm ready if you are."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Ross nodded. "Wait." He walked to the coat rack and took the two jackets hanging on the hooks. He the other one was Rachel's; the other handful of customers seemed to have their coats on.

"Thanks," Rachel replied as she took it. "Why though?"

"Oh, we're not hanging out here. I mean, the coffee's good, but I was thinking maybe we could go somewhere else."

"What is it with you and this place?" Ross led her to Central Park – again, only this time, they were by the Bethesda fountain. The air was cool, there weren't many people, and the moon shined bright over them; maybe it wasn't so bad. They were settled on a bench; besides them talking, the only sounds came from the water from the fountain, and a group of college kids singing a few benches away from them.

"Um, I dunno, really. But when I was in college, whenever I get tired of the noise from the dorm, I usually go to the museum, or here. And since the museum is closed, here we are. I guess they're both really quiet and relaxing at the same time. You know, for a city filled with noise and stuff."

Rachel nodded. Even then, Ross never said much about college, so it was interesting to hear about what he was like back in the university.

"So, yeah. Where were we?"

Rachel turned to him. "What?"

"I mean, where were we before I asked to stop."

"Oh. Uh, we were at the airport. I was waiting for you to come back from China. I even had flowers," Rachel chuckled at the last statement. "But when I saw you, I saw you with another lady. Her name is Julie. I distinctly remember making a huge-ass fool of myself back then. Not only did I stumble, my voice was really shouty and I dunno, I think you felt weird about it."

Ross stayed silent as he listened. But inside, his mind was running rapidly. Who is this Julie? Why did he like her? He never liked anyone before aside from Carol and Rachel.

"…And to add more wood to the fire, I went all crazy and you know, tried to break you and Julie up. I swear, I was a freaking child. They all tried to stop me, but no…I just kept going at it. After some time, their advice finally rubbed off and I decided to go on a date. But instead of moving on, I just ended up drunk dialing the apartment and rambled on about closures and stuff."

Ross raised an eyebrow. That didn't sound like the Rachel he knew. What did she see in him, he wanted to ask. But he didn't want to kill the mood; so, he just nodded and listened.

"But then, the day after that, you came into the apartment and for some reason that I already forgot, you wanted to use the phone. I don't know how, but my voice started to play. I really sounded drunk. And there, you found out that I had feelings for you. You know, the funny thing was…" Rachel trailed off, and then shook her head. The thought just hit her right there. Why didn't she notice it yesterday?

"What?" Ross interrupted for the first time since she began.

"You…you almost acted like the first time you heard it. Back then, you were also kind of stuttering and stuff. And you were pacing back and forth the apartment; you didn't know what to do. Wait a minute – you were also wearing a red sweater yesterday right?"

"Yeah."

Wow, Rachel thought. Light bulbs clicked in her head. There was something about those similarities that gave her the chills – in a good way. She just realized how important red sweaters were in their relationship. She had never acknowledged that before.

"Well, back then, you also wore a red sweater. We were both freaking out in different ways, and then you ended up leaving since Julie was downstairs. So, yeah. Then, that evening, you came to Central Perk. I worked there, just in case I didn't bring it up before. I was just closing up when you barged in. And then we argued about that message."

Ross frowned to himself. He couldn't see himself arguing with Rachel. He didn't even have the guts to talk to her back then. Maybe I changed too, he thought. For the better as well.

"It was nasty for a while. There were tears. Don't worry, they were from my end," Rachel attempted a joke. "You slammed the door at me, and I was crying on the couch. But you know, I had to close the coffee house. So I stood up, and I found you still standing outside. I was surprised. I thought you were pissed. It was, I think it was…"

Raindrops started to pour all over the park. The college kids hooted and continued to practice their songs, like there was no rain at all. Rachel tried to search her bag for an umbrella, but Ross grabbed her hand and dragged her to the nearest tree from the bench.

For a while, no one spoke. Rachel crossed her arms. Ross placed his hands inside his jacket pockets. Both of them were looking at the rain – as it poured on the branches, the concrete, the bench. They picked a good tree; the rain couldn't hit them, it always reached the leaves first. It was the first time they held hands since the accident. Rachel missed it. Ross couldn't believe it. It was only for a few seconds, but it was enough to ignite the tiniest spark. And to them, that meant good.

"It was?" Ross broke the silence.

Rachel chuckled. "It was like this. It was raining. And I opened the door, and uh…you…"

"Me?"

"We kissed," Rachel muttered in a tiny voice. She doesn't know how he would react, and a part of her actually hoped he didn't hear it.

But Ross did. What. The. Fug. He did not expect that at all. A flash of questions flooded his mind and he didn't know which one was okay to ask about. Why? How? Did she still taste like strawberries? He looked away; he was probably blushing like some lovesick teenager. Well, he kinda is, but that was no excuse. He would do a lot to time travel to that moment.

"Ross."

"What?"

"You okay?" There weren't any signs of a freak-out yet; she was relieved. "Wait, can I look at your watch?" Ross held out a hand without looking at her; he was still embarrassed about the whole thing. Rachel squinted as she looked for the time. 9:30 P.M. "Shoot! Ross, we need to go."

"What?"

"Em – I mean, Amy invited me over for breakfast tomorrow, and I need to get up early." Rachel sighed; that was close.

Ross finally shifted his eyes from the college kids to Rachel. "Oh. Okay." Part of him thought she was telling the truth, but the other part made him think that she was trying to avoid a potential breakdown. He wasn't going to throw a fit. He already made a deal with himself earlier. And he is going to stick to it. "Can I walk you home?"

They rode a cab. It wasn't a silent ride. They talked about their day, mostly. She was ecstatic about the lively lunch with Ben; he was happy for her about the successful job interview. Just simple things – they talked, they listened, they laughed their way to the Village.

"So, I guess this is good night?" Ross asked. They were in front of Rachel's apartment building.

"Yeah. See you soon?"

"Absolutely."

"Yo, don't hog the road man!" A teenager furiously tore through sidewalk in his bike. Rachel almost stumbled. Ross pulled her in too hard.

And just like that, their lips touched.


End file.
